the filth of lies festooned upon the emaciated ruin must be asunder torn. Bride of abyssal vipers, Mallory, foretold this letter to the night-wrought edifice of Happy Starts Adoptions and to thine name I commenced. By the ancient frozen corpsegod, destiny proclaimed me father and so my occupation, in my truest vault of vengeance, has ever been to shape the vessel of my wisdom gathered. Be they son or daughter enthroned in rancid flesh I wish to share the nightmare rampage of ascension with them.
Though I am consecrated Virgo Stormreckoner by the state of Indiana, and my nocturne name in the shadow church was Seraphius Mortifactor, the true name of my induction into the mist covered realm of South Bend was Eugene Katz. My father a hellish locust prince, my mother a nurse's aid, raised I was in the sightless torpor of conformity. The diminution of all in the cradle of ignorance forsaken for the glory of blasphemy. To revelate in blood and sodomy and become the herald of the unmaking of worlds unfolded over many years.
Command the bequeathment of a particular strain I do not. Born of whoreflesh or the begotten scion of false kings, all will be exulted and into Moloch's black baptismal submerged. Fatherhood, the sacred pact adorned without blood required, so I kneel to pray at this frozen church for any saprophytic maggot spawn. To cradle them to my rotting breast and sing the songs of ancient gods. To teach to walk the midnight path with the courage of dread wizards and deny the false holiness of men.
Unearthed from her sepulcher by pale hands, in vestments clad of lace, Mallory demands the true accounting of my deeds. I refuse the sacrament of flesh or the product of misery for reasons unmoored from the Inverse Eschaton. Mankind, fools, unrepentant judged by the silent eyes of those we slaughter. Veganism ordained, so commanded the starless night and I, the servant of blackness.
This epoch I inhabit so I have committed deathless hours to Organizing for Action, the only action being entropy and, ultimately the organization of atoms to states of lesser excitement. Between the Alpha and the Omega, this interregnum of suffering, our plight lessened by tearing down the oligarchs and to the merciless crusader so the crusader's whore, let Babylon be damned.
Whatever stalking doom befalls, I will be the father to these inheritors of woe you grant us. Whether it is as foretold and the great hunger arises to claim the land or the stars die and we must freeze in flooded streets. Breasts may wither. Blood of man may be our only nourishment. I will tear down the false idols and break the limbs of our foes. I will burn the temples. I will reclaim the vengeful birthright of our ancestors. I will even attend parent-teacher meetings.
Bestow upon us this unhallowed blessing and my gratitude you will secure from beyond the grave.
With a hopeful heart,
Tyrant of Suffering, Viscous Prince of Perversity, and Dad???
This accursed realm of woe devolves further when you follow Zack on Facebook.
Works great on my child, who hasn't barked at all for as long as she's worn the apparatus. When she turns three, we will remove it for a trial period.
This lousy world just gets lousier every year as these stores put out their skeletons and Santas in summer.
Try not to break your console while I try not to break my cyber brain.
The Something Awful front page news tackles anything both off and on the Internet. Mostly "on" though, as we're all incredible nerds.